


the winter doggo

by cas_makes_me_very_happy



Series: the dog days are over [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A bit of torture, ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Domestic Avengers, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers Feels, nazis are dicks, there's more angst, there's only a little bit of kissing, this time Bucky's the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 05:54:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cas_makes_me_very_happy/pseuds/cas_makes_me_very_happy
Summary: Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, ex-Soviet assassin, proto-Avenger, and the cutest goddamn husky ever





	the winter doggo

**Author's Note:**

> you might wanna read the first one first because things will make more sense, and also it has quality Steve Rogers as a Golden Retriever content. it's fluffier than this one

“Hey, I’ve got a fun game for us all to play.”

Tony Stark, as usual, in lieu of a greeting entered the room like everyone already knew what he was talking about.

Steve looked up from where he was currently sketching Natasha (he thought he was being subtle but she totally knew he was drawing her) and raised an eyebrow. Tony’s ‘games’ were often precursors to things a lot less fun than Monopoly or Scrabble.

The others seemed to be thinking the same thing, because none of them looked particularly excited. Except maybe Clint. He usually got to shoot stuff during the games.

Tony didn’t need any encouragement to continue. “You remember that thing that happened a couple months ago that I was unfortunate enough to miss, where Cap got shot by weird Nazi rays and – thank JARVIS there’s footage – was turned into a golden retriever?”

“No,” Steve said. “You haven’t brought it up in, like, a day.”

“How is this a game?” Natasha asked.

“It’s more of a quiz, really. Like, a couples quiz for the Cap and Sarge. What kind of dog do you reckon Barnes would be?”

The answers were immediate.

“Doberman.” Clint.

“Pitbull.” Natasha.

“Chihuahua.” Sam.

“Adorable.” Steve.

“Well,” Tony said, “you’re all wrong.”

And then, with perfect timing only found in books and movies, there was a bang from down the hall, a yelp which sounded oddly like Bruce, and Tony said “o shit”, before something dark burst into the common room and went straight for Tony.

Steve had been on his feet at Bruce’s yelp, and Tony had already been diving for cover behind patriotic shoulders, so the dog – because it was a dog, Steve now saw – instead barrelled right into Steve.

Steve was surprised when it actually managed to topple him over.

He landed on his back with an _oof_. Behind him, Tony squeaked and started scrambling backwards. The dog braced itself to lunge at Tony again and Steve grabbed two handfuls of soft, dark fur.

Then the dog looked down at Steve and met his gaze with piercing, icy blue eyes.

“Ah, shit,” Steve sighed.

“Language,” Tony said automatically, but it still came out as more of a squeak.

The dog growled, looking back up at Tony, and Tony ran to hide behind Sam.

Steve sat up and rested a hand on the dog’s head, peering into its eyes. “Bucky?”

Bucky gazed back at him.

Shiiiiit.

“Wait, hold on,” Clint said, fumbling for his phone. “This is going on Twitter. Barnes, look cute. This’ll shut all the haters up.”

“Clint, put your phone away, man,” Sam said.

Steve ran a hand down his face, fighting to stay calm. “Stark, what the hell?”

“What? You just _assume_ it’s my fault?”

“That is generally the case–”

“Hey, Bruce,” Natasha said.

Bruce, having snuck in under the arguing, waved awkwardly. “Hey. Hey, guys. Anyone get mauled?”

“No, but no thanks to you,” Tony said. “Why’d you let go of him?”

“He’s really strong.”

“I thought he was only supposed to be there for arm maintenance,” Sam mused.

“That’s what we were doing before he suddenly had no arms.”

“Is he wearing a _collar_?” That was it for Steve’s calm then. He was on his feet and rounding on Tony before he was even fully aware. “You put a fucking _collar_ on him?”

To give Tony credit, he didn’t flinch. “He was being uncooperative–”

“You know what those bastards did to him for seventy years. You put restraints on him and you’re just like–”

“Hey, man.” Suddenly Sam was there, his hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve could have resisted, but it was easy to let Sam pull him back. “Tony’s not Hydra. Don’t go saying things you’ll regret once you’ve calmed down.”

As Steve backed down, Tony stepped up. “If you ask me, I think it’s an improvement.”

“Tony, I swear to God, I am _this close_ to punching you in the teeth.”

“Maybe we should all just cool off for a minute,” Sam suggested, encouraged by Bruce nodding vigorously. “Hey, Steve? Go get a little space.”

Sam was such a damn voice of reason. It made everyone feel guilty if they didn’t do what he suggested. Tony and Steve glared at each other for another second (and no one pointed out how Tony stood on his toes to do it) before Steve turned away, reaching for Bucky.

“C’mon.”

As they left, Steve heard Clint exclaim, “Ha! The Winter Doggo is trending.”

 

–

 

Steve led Bucky to their bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

It was Steve’s bedroom, technically, but Bucky had taken to sleeping here more often than not now. Steve, obviously, wasn’t complaining for a number of reasons. One of those being the simple fact that waking from a nightmare with someone warm and familiar beside you, whispering, “it’s okay, I’m here,” was a hell of a lot nicer than waking alone.

Then there were other, not so innocent reasons.

They were still working things out, still trying to figure out how to talk to each other like normal people and not just bottle up all their emotions. Bucky still had doubts, still questioned whether he was worth all this, whether Steve really wanted _him_ and not just Steve’s memory of Bucky.

And Steve. Well, he had to learn not to get mad about that, had to be patient when he wanted to yell, because he couldn’t understand how Bucky could think Steve would want anything else but the man he finally had.

Steve had been so foolish. He hadn’t realised what he’d had until it was gone, and everything he’d done since then was to make sure he never lost it again.He’d give up everything time and time again for Bucky. He would do anything for Bucky – a thought that sometimes scared him but the fact of it never changed.

Steve was never letting Bucky go again.

It’d taken them a while, but things were finally _good_. He wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Except maybe this whole dog situation.

Bucky sat on the bed, unmade because they were both heathens according to Sam, and Steve knelt down in front of him. He reached up and gently unbuckled the collar. It was simple leather with _STARK INDUSTRIES_ stamped on the side.

“Fucking Stark,” Steve muttered, dropping the collar onto the nightstand.

Bucky shook himself. Steve sat back and looked at him properly.

None of them had guessed the breed correctly, though Steve was probably the closest because Bucky was _beautiful_.

He was clearly a husky, with sleek black and white fur and the fluffiest goddamn tail. The black markings across his face formed something like a mask framing his steel eyes, the only things that hadn’t changed.

Well, his eyes and the look he was giving Steve which Steve could’ve sworn was the same smirk Bucky gave him whenever he caught Steve staring.

“What?” Steve said.

The thing was, Steve really liked dogs.

They wouldn’t have been able to afford one back in Brooklyn even if Steve hadn’t been as allergic as heck. Still, much to Bucky’s annoyance, he used to feed the neighbourhood strays even when they could barely feed themselves.

In Europe, he’d filled pages of his sketchbooks with drawings of the war dogs. He tossed scraps of meat to ones left behind when villages had been abandoned. He’d called his team the _Howling_ Commandos, for Christ’s sake.

Almost as soon as he’d woken up from the ice, with a nice looking bank account and a dizzying loneliness, Steve had thought about getting a dog. There had been a shelter not too far from his old apartment in DC that he’d wound up in front of more than once.

But he knew it wouldn’t be fair on the dog to have an owner who was sometimes gone for weeks on end. So instead he’d ended up volunteering on his days off, and leaving a sizeable donation when he’d moved back to New York.

Having a dog was still a dream for the future.

He knew Bucky wasn’t really _just a dog_ , but he couldn’t help reaching out and stroking his fingers through Bucky’s fur.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. Bucky closed his eyes, pushing into Steve’s hand. Steve remembered how good it had felt when he was a dog and obligingly dug deeper. “Are you okay?”

Bucky blinked at him.

“Stupid question,” Steve guessed. “Jeez. How did this happen?”

Bucky sighed and flopped onto his side. Steve ran his hand down his flank, then back up, skimming his fingers down Bucky’s left foreleg. It was all fur and flesh and bone. Apparently there were no metal limbs in dog form.

Bucky lifted his head and caught the cuff of Steve’s long-sleeve shirt between his teeth, tugging gently. Steve got the message and clambered onto the bed. Bucky immediately lay down beside him and sighed again, this time more happily and right in Steve’s face. Steve resumed his stroking and Bucky closed his eyes.

Bucky had gotten particularly good at convincing Steve to lie around in bed for hours in the middle of the day, or to sprawl on the couch with him after breakfast. Since it was mostly no longer due to depression, Steve almost too willingly went along with it. Bucky more than deserved it, and Steve wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to keep Bucky close.

They still trained every day (though Steve got the feeling Bucky kept letting him pin him down), and went jogging with Sam (much to Sam’s annoyance when they both lapped him), and hung out with the others (which Bucky was getting more and more comfortable doing). Steve figured they could afford this luxury and make the most of it when they could.

It felt like there was always something working to keep them apart.

 

–

 

Sam knocked on the door and waited, because he’d walked in on one too many horrifying scenes. Even though Bucky was currently fur-ified, it was best not to grow complacent.

A minute later, Steve pulled open the door, his stance defensive. He only relaxed slightly when he saw it was just Sam.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hey, man. You good? You wanna come hear how this happened?”

“Is it gonna make me wanna punch Tony again?”

“Probably. But when don’t you?”

“Good point.” He turned slightly, giving Sam a brief view of his bedroom. Paintings from artists Sam was pretty sure Steve had told him the names of hung on the walls. Sketchbooks were piled on a desk beside an old record player. One of the nightstands was stacked with science fiction novels. Clothes were kicked haphazardly into the corner, or hung over the back of the desk chair and not all of them were Steve’s.

The room looked _lived in_ , as though the two of them were finally starting to make a home. Sam was insanely proud of his ninety-year-old kids.

“You coming?” Steve asked the bed. Or more, the lump under the blankets which was, in fact, Bucky Barnes.

He obviously had absolutely zero intentions to move. Steve shrugged and turned to follow Sam, leaving the door open because the sucker didn’t have opposable thumbs anymore.

What even was Sam Wilson’s life?

 

–

 

“So, here’s the thing,” Tony began, “it totally wasn’t my fault. Not one hundred percent my fault, anyway. Fido is just as much to blame, touching things he shouldn’t be. But. Sorry I turned your boy toy into a poodle.”

“Not a poodle. But thanks. How exactly did this happen?”

“Well, after Hydra turned you into a dog, obviously I had to figure it out for myself. They can’t do something I can’t do.”

Steve raised his eyes heavenward and sighed. “So you made a gun, too?”

“It’s not exactly a gun, it’s more of a molecular atomis– Okay, yeah, it’s a gun.”

“And you tested it on Bucky?”

“No, he touched it! And it went off. And I haven’t exactly come up with a way to reverse it yet.”

“That’s okay, we can just call Strange again, right?”

“We already tried that,” Bruce said. “He’s unavailable.”

“What? What’s that mean?”

“It’s when someone isn’t available,” Tony said. Steve gave him such a disappointed look he immediately backtracked. “Right. No jokes. Okay. I’m gonna come up with something. It just might… take a while.”

“How long’s a while?”

“Look at it this way. It took me six months to make the gun in the first place.”

Steve ran a hand down his face, suddenly exhausted despite his nap earlier. “Okay. Thank you, Tony.”

Tony hid it quickly, but Steve caught the look of surprise on Tony’s face before he continued. “Also, you should probably move into the tower in the meantime.”

“Bucky doesn’t like living in New York.”

“I can’t tell you how long it’ll take, but I know it’ll be quicker if he’s closer to the labs. I gotta run tests and stuff.”

Steve winced. Bucky wasn’t going to like that either. He only tolerated Tony doing maintenance on his arm when it was too hard to do it himself. Steve suddenly realised he’d never really thanked Tony for doing that, too, when Tony probably had every reason to refuse.

They were both trying to make up for a lot of things.

“All right,” Steve said. “I’ll talk to him. We’ll be around tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. We’ll have mimosas.”

 

–

 

Steve packed the next morning while Bucky lay on the bed watching, distractingly cute.

“Should I pack clothes for you?” Steve said, holding up a shirt that was somehow covered in fur even though he hadn’t even gotten it out of the wardrobe since Bucky had been a dog.

Steve glanced at Bucky, who looked back at him. “You mostly wear mine anyway.”

Head on his paws, Bucky didn’t respond.

He hadn’t been thrilled to hear that they were going to have to stay in New York for an undetermined amount of time. They’d never stayed at the tower, but Steve remembered the couple of months they’d spent in Brooklyn when Bucky had first come back. It hadn’t gone well for either of them. Steve knew Bucky thought it was just him, but more often than not Steve had been haunted by memories as he paced the unfamiliar streets.

Brooklyn had been their home, and Steve loved when the accent crept back into Bucky’s voice sometimes, but they’d both changed too much to go back.

Manhattan wasn’t going to be any more fun, though Bucky was getting better with crowds now. They’d gone to their first Christmas party at the tower last December and neither of them had freaked out, though they both had silently agreed not to attend the fireworks on New Year’s Eve.

Besides, they wouldn’t even have to do anything like that. They could stay holed up on Steve’s floor, only making return trips to the lab when Tony needed them to. And if some Avenging shit came up and Steve had to leave, Ms Potts was the perfect person to keep Bucky company. Bucky even _liked_ her, though that shouldn’t be surprising. Everyone liked Pepper.

So, all in all, it wasn’t the worst idea.

Steve folded the shirt and placed it in his duffel. God, though, he felt like crawling back under the covers and not coming out for months. Why did this keep happening? Bucky had just been getting into a good place, and now this. Hadn’t he been through enough–

“AH!” Steve jumped about a foot in the air as something cold and wet touched the back of his knee.

He looked down.

Bucky sat down beside him and looked back, head tilted to the side.

“What?” Steve said.

Bucky blinked at him.

“I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that.”

Bucky stuck his nose into the back of Steve’s knee again.

“Would you quit that!”

Bucky just looked at him until Steve slumped. He sat on the floor and buried his face in his hands. “I just feel like I keep losing you. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try. It’s like God’s decided you’re the one thing I can’t hold on to.”

Bucky whined and pushed his face under Steve’s arm. Steve lowered one hand to grip a handful of fur.

“I know you’re still here, but what if Tony can’t fix this? What if Strange never comes back? If you’re stuck like this forever…” He shook his head and gripped Bucky a little tighter. “I want you to know, though.”

He lowered his other hand to look Bucky in the eyes. “I love you. No matter what.”

 

–

 

That… _bastard!_

Bucky was still bristling twenty minutes later in the car on the way to ~~Stark~~ Avengers Tower.

That little punk. Of course he had to say it first. Of course he went and told Bucky he loved him the _one time_ Bucky couldn’t reply. The shithead.

It shouldn’t matter. A couple of words did nothing to convey what Bucky felt for Steve, and it wasn’t like Steve didn’t already know. But it did matter. And Bucky had wanted to say it first. He at least had wanted to be able to say it back.

Steve knew Bucky was irked, and the bastard was being smug about it. He had this little smirk on his face and he was as resolutely Not Looking at Bucky as Bucky was Not Looking at Steve. Which meant they were both stealing glances from the corner of their eyes.

Still without looking, Steve cracked his window slightly. The wind rushed into the car, bringing the scent of the countryside. Bucky’s nose twitched. It was _insane_ what he could smell in this body. He wasn’t even sure what half of the scents were.

Steve, though. Steve smelled incredible. It was heady and organic and Bucky wanted to bury himself beneath Steve’s skin and stay there. It was achingly familiar and Bucky would know the scent anywhere, in any form, even if his memories were wiped all over again.

Steve inched the window down further. Bucky felt the wind in his fur. He turned his head to glare at Steve. (Bucky had caught a look of himself in Steve’s bathroom mirror earlier; he knew the Winter Soldier glare was still intact.)

Steve just smirked fully and put the window down all the way.

Oh, hell.

Bucky clambered over, making sure to aim a paw at Steve’s dick. Steve let out a soft grunt and Bucky hummed happily. He braced his paws on Steve’s thigh and thrust his head out the window.

It was like… all his worries were just whipped away. The wind ripped through him, but it wasn’t destructive, it was freeing. Did this work for humans? This would solve a lot of shit if it did.

Steve leaned in and whispered, “Stick your tongue out.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. Steve was an idiot. But…

He let his jaw drop open and his tongue hang out.

Fuck _yes_.

 

–

 

The open window distracted him for the rest of the ride. Even when they reached the city and drudged through the midday traffic, the sights and sounds weren’t so bad when he was hanging out the window of the sleek black car.

And the smells. Manhattan _stunk_. It was smoke and car fumes and garbage and sweat. Underneath that there was the rich scent of coffee and the almost sickening smell of fast food. Every now and then he caught a whiff of something different, natural, that made him think he could smell Central Park.

Avengers Tower loomed over the other buildings around it. Bucky felt Steve stiffen beneath him as they drew closer.

They’d only come here a couple of times, when Bucky’s arm played up too much for him to fix on his own. It always made Steve tense. Half of that was because of his history with Tony, and the rest was probably because of the fucking wormhole that had opened up right above the tower and had poured aliens out a couple years ago.

Yesterday had been the first time Bucky had come alone. Steve had argued, obviously, because if he could argue, he was going to. But he’d already promised he’d join Sam at the VA so it hadn’t been impossible to convince him to stay. Besides, if Bucky ever wanted to get better, he needed to start making his own doctor’s appointments.

He had to admit, though, it was a lot nicer sitting on Steve’s lap. He wasn’t nearly as freaked out as he had been yesterday.

They pulled into the garage and Bucky dutifully trotted after Steve towards the elevator. It was only once they were inside and Steve had pressed the button for an insanely high level that Bucky remembered that he’d been mad earlier.

Since silent treatment clearly wouldn’t have the same effect when he couldn’t talk in the first place, as soon as the elevator doors opened to Steve’s floor Bucky took himself off to the guest bedroom and left Steve to deal with the luggage.

Though they hadn’t ever stayed here overnight, they’d spent enough time in the apartment that Bucky knew his way around. The whole thing was open-plan with gigantic windows overlooking the city. There were two ridiculously large bedrooms, and two bathrooms. The guest bedroom was crammed with Captain America memorabilia.

The first time Bucky had seen it, he’d still been struggling with his memories. Walking into the room had been like a punch to the face. He’d just sat on the floor for hours until Steve found him and took him home.

Now, Bucky strode past the plastic shields, comic books, and action figures and leapt onto the red, white and blue duvet. He curled up with his back to the door.

He could hear Steve dumping the bags in other room. The fridge door opened and closed. The coffee machine started whirring. The toilet flushed. Then there was a gentle knock on the bedroom door.

“Hey,” Steve said. “You’re not really mad at me, are you?”

Bucky huffed.

“I’m not gonna take it back.”

Of course not, stubborn bastard.

“I mean it, Bucky. I lo–”

Bucky made the most embarrassing howling sound ever and launched himself off the bed at Steve. Steve needed to _shut the fuck up_ right now.

It worked. Steve fell to the ground, laughing instead of talking shit. As a human, Buck would have tackled Steve’s stupid mug into the ground. As a dog, he wasn’t really spoilt for choice on how to teach this dumbass a lesson.

He started licking Steve’s face and neck and Steve _lost it._ He tried to push Bucky off, but this body was weirdly squirmy and every time Steve managed to push Bucky away, he was already twisting around again to come from another angle. His tail thumped against Steve’s knees and Steve’s begging just egged him on.

Until Steve was _wheezing_.

Bucky sat back and tilted his head to the side, watching Steve. He was covered in slobber, making his hair stick out in all directions. His chest heaved beneath Bucky.

Bucky was reminded of when Steve had done a similar thing to him when he’d been a golden retriever. It had loosened something inside Bucky. There was something about dogs that made the world seem lighter.

Or perhaps there was something about Steve.

Something beeped in the vicinity of Steve’s pocket. Bucky deliberately sat in the most awkward position to make it more difficult for Steve to dig his phone out.

“Ugh, it’s Tony. He says we have to go to movie night tonight.”

They had movie nights at the compound. Bucky was really beginning to enjoy them. He enjoyed anything to do with lazing around with Steve. He wagged his tail.

Steve frowned at him. “You want to go?”

Bucky nodded.

“Okay,” Steve said, tapping out a reply. “But it’s all on you.”

 

–

 

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed when they entered the communal lounge and saw Wilson waiting for them. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“And miss out on the puppy shenanigans?” Sam laughed. “No way.”

They hugged even though they had literally just seen each other that morning. Bucky huffed. Steve laughed and ruffled his head like he wasn’t someone who made out with Steve on a regular basis.

Sam had a shit-eating grin on his face when Bucky looked back at him.

“I’m starving,” Steve declared, apparently forgetting about those two frozen lasagnes he’d shoved into his mouth before coming down here.

“Kitchen’s stocked.”

“Bucky, you want popcorn?”

Steve was an idiot. Of course Bucky wanted popcorn.

Steve started towards the kitchen and Bucky jumped up onto the couch to wait for him.

“Hey, fluffy,” Sam said. He reached down to pat Bucky. Bucky bared his teeth. Sam pouted. “Steve, your dog’s a dick.”

“Bucky, be nice,” Steve called.

Unlikely.

Bucky and Sam glared at each other.

The elevator doors hissed open and Clint wandered in, already in his pyjamas. Had everyone decided to follow them to the tower? When he spotted Bucky, his eyes lit up.

“Hey, Barnes, let me take another photo,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “Gotta keep the fans happy.”

Bucky would very much like to know what fans. Unsurprisingly, the Winter Soldier wasn’t the most popular person even though he’d been cleared of all crimes committed under Hydra’s influence.

If it didn’t make Bucky feel better, it probably wasn’t going to make many others feel much better either.

He let Clint take the photo.

Clint dropped down beside Bucky and showed him his phone. The caption read ‘ _Bucky Barkes lmao #theWinterDoggo_ ’. Bucky snorted. Clint was an idiot.

“You’re literally the cutest dog,” Clint said.

Sam shrugged. “I liked Steve as a dog better. He was cuddly.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha asked, because of course she was here too, coming into the room with a bowl of delicious smelling popcorn. “Barnes is so cuddly.” She put the bowl on the coffee table before lifting Bucky’s paws and settling onto the couch, laying him back across her lap. He snuggled in, then met Sam’s gaze and dropped his mouth open in a doggy grin.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

Natasha and Clint gasped. Clint reached over and covered Bucky’s ears. “Don’t listen to that nasty man.”

Sam grabbed the bowl of popcorn and slumped onto the other couch to mope.

The elevator door opened again and Stark strode in with Ms Potts and Bruce in tow.

“Do you guys have any recommendations? No? Good, because I’ve already got something lined up. FRIDAY, get it rolling.”

Nobody paid him any attention. Bruce sat on the couch beside Sam and helped himself to some popcorn. Ms Potts– _Pepper_ smiled sweetly at Bucky and scratched him under the chin. “Hello, James. How are you?”

Bucky wagged his tail, accidentally flicking Clint in the eye as he did.

“Ow, my eye.”

“Oh, God,” Steve said, coming back into the room with his own enormous bowl of popcorn. “Who let Tony pick? It’s gonna be–”

“Lassie,” Stark declared just as the television – basically one whole wall – came to life. He glanced at Bucky as he sat down between Pepper and Bruce. “No hard feelings, right, Snoopy? We done with the attempted murder?”

Bucky shrugged and was more than a little pleased at the unsettled look on Stark’s face.

Steve dropped onto the only spare armchair. Bucky abandoned Natasha for Steve’s lap instead.

“I feel betrayed,” Natasha said.

Somehow he managed to curl his bulk up enough to fit. Steve laid a hand on his back and fed him popcorn from his palm.

“That’s just sickeningly cute,” Sam said as the opening credits blared. “I’m gonna throw up.”

 

–

 

It had been a week, and Steve could tell Bucky was bored. If the chewed up cushions were anything to go by, at least.

He also. Would not. _Shut up_.

“WHAT?” Steve shouted, for the hundredth time.

Bucky, lying on the opposite couch, just yelled back.

At first, it’d been cute. Steve had never heard a husky’s bark before and when Bucky had let out a hungry cry at dinner time, Steve had been gone. He’d had his phone out in a second, much to Bucky’s annoyance. It was just so fucking cute.

The first time.

And the second, when they’d been watching a movie and Steve had been so invested he’d stopped patting Bucky. Bucky had made these pathetic little whining sounds until Steve dragged him onto his lap.

The third time, it’d been three in the morning and Bucky had stood at the end of the bed and just fucking _howled_.

Steve had jolted awake in a panic, thinking Bucky was dying or something, but Bucky had only wagged his tail at Steve’s desperate “ _what’s wrong?_ ” and howled again. He’d bounced across the mattress and flopped onto Steve’s pillows, rolling around and yapping like a puppy.

It was part cute, part infuriating. And because he was now up and too worked up to go back to sleep, Steve had decided to go for a jog and had dragged Bucky along as punishment.

Yelling back when he got into one of these moods just seemed to egg Bucky on even more, but it was kind of hard not to. Steve could tell when it was about to happen, because Bucky would stare at Steve until Steve looked over, then the tail would wag. Steve would go, “Nooooo,” and Bucky would toss his head back and go, “Wooooo.”

If Steve didn’t look up, that was when the whining would start.

“What do you _want?_ ” Steve groaned.

Bucky was pretty good at mocking him, even as a dog.

“I swear to God, Barnes, I will take your ass to the pound.”

Bucky rolled onto his back, whining.

“Are you hungry?”

Another whine.

“Do you need to pee?”

Whine.

“D’you wanna play fetch?”

More whining.

“Then what do you want!”

Bucky yowled. It sounded a lot like _I don’t know_.

“Christ,” Steve muttered. His phone buzzed with a text from Tony, saying they were needed at the lab. “Oh, thank God. Come on, we have to go.”

He had to drag Bucky off the couch and into the elevator, which shouldn’t have been a problem because Steve could hoist all of Bucky’s 200-plus pounds of muscle and metal fairly easily, but somehow as a dog it seemed Bucky could make his body weigh even more if he didn’t want to go somewhere.

Bucky got over his mood on the ride down and trotted out of the elevator like this is what he’d wanted to do all along when the doors opened to Tony’s lab.

Steve trailed after him. “Tony! Did you figure it out?”

“Uh, no,” Tony said, glancing over at them. “I just need some scans.” He smirked. “Trouble in paradise?”

Steve folded his arms. “I love Bucky in all his forms. I just miss his voice.”

Bucky made a strangled sound when Steve used the L-word and shoved his weight into Steve’s leg, making him stagger. It felt good to be the annoying one for a change.

Tony looked amused but made no comment. “Lassie, if you will.”

Bucky huffed but moved to stand where Tony indicated. There was a faint whir of machinery that had Bucky’s ears flattening, but Tony explained what was happening the whole time. Just like he always did when working on the arm.

It always surprised Steve, the amount of understanding and consideration Tony had for what Bucky had gone through. It shouldn’t have been surprising, but with the way he was so tactless outside of possibly triggering situations it was hard for Steve to keep up.

“Okay, Balto, we’re done,” Tony said, turning away as the scanners lifted away from Bucky. Bucky shook himself and moved back to Steve’s side. Tony was already pulling stuff up on the many screens around his desks. “I should be able to run the diagnostics through this rather than actually testing them out on Barnes. Hopefully we get a hit.”

“Thanks, Tony. Keep us posted.”

“Will do.” Tony poked at a few more screens before looking back up at Steve. “Why are you still here? I’m done with you. Go, go. And stop putting your nose in things!” This was yelled at Bucky, accompanied by a thrown pencil, and Bucky slunk sheepishly away from a curious-looking machine. “That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.”

 

–

 

Bucky entertained himself for the next week by taking Steve’s socks whenever Steve was in the shower. It was a testament to how far gone on Bucky Steve was that he didn’t realise something was up when he couldn’t find the socks he’d laid out on the bed. He just kept fetching new socks from the drawer.

They spent a lot of time on the roof because Stark had a goddamn pool up there and it was still hot for August and Steve looked great in shorts.

Sometimes the others joined them, though Natasha never swam and Bucky was pretty sure she was just there to distract the other guys with her red bikini. She and Pepper would lounge on deck chairs with drinks with little umbrellas in them that smelled more like alcohol than fruit. They tasted more like alcohol than fruit when Bucky stuck his tongue in one when they weren’t looking.

Clint brought blow-up swans and shit and it was fun to leap onto them when Sam was floating by. It was even more fun to wait until Sam had dried off again and then shake all over him.

One afternoon, Steve cautiously held up a tennis ball like Bucky would bite his hand off for even suggesting fetch. Steve tossed it and Bucky was compelled to lope after it. He trotted back to Steve but when Steve reached for the ball, Bucky danced away.

_Fetch this, bitch._

Steve chased him around for an hour before admitting defeat and collapsing on the floor. Bucky trotted over and dropped the slobbery ball right in the centre of Steve’s chest.

They watched movies every night and a collection of Avengers would join them. Clint liked action movies and gave Steve more terrible ideas about jumping out of planes. Natasha liked thrillers, probably because she liked how Clint jumped at every sound. Sam liked comedies and Bucky would never admit to anyone, ever, that Sam had a nice laugh. Pepper liked drama because “it’s good when it’s happening to someone else.” Bruce had a taste for romances and one night when it was just the two of them watching, he confessed quietly to Bucky that he was terrified of loving someone.

Bucky couldn’t tell him just how fucking terrified he was too.

Stark, of course, kept putting on dog movies. They were forced to sit through 101 Dalmatians, which made Steve mad because “she wants to make a coat out of _puppies??!!_ ”; Beethoven, who Bucky had thought was a musician not a dog; Homeward Bound, which made Clint cry (and everyone else, too, but they were better at hiding their emotions); and Scooby-Doo, both the first and the sequel (no comment).

It was okay (it had to be okay) because he still had Steve. Even though he missed being able to kiss him in the mornings, softly and reverently because he still couldn’t believe he was allowed to. Even though he missed being able to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist and bury his face in Steve’s chest when he needed to, just for a moment, remind himself they were still here. Even though he missed being able to call Steve a punk and a dumbass and the best thing that ever happened to him all in one sentence and watch Steve get torn between being indignant and happy.

Even though he missed being _human_ , things were okay.

Of course, it didn’t last.

Stark stopped by Steve’s floor late one night. “Hey, Cap. Lassie.”

Steve didn’t look up from what he was doing. “You’ve used that one.”

“Uh, Scooby-Doo.”

“There you go.”

“I’m running out of famous dogs.”

“What do you want, Tony?”

“Something’s happening,” Stark said, and the sudden change in his tone had Steve looking up. Bucky lifted his head from his paws. “Fury’s calling us in. We gotta go.”

“What happened?” Steve asked, rising.

“I’ll fill you in on the jet.”

Steve paused then, and looked back at Bucky. “But…”

Bucky didn’t want Steve to go. He hated being left alone when Steve went on missions, and he hated the feeling of dread that always threatened to consume him.

But he hated the idea of holding Steve back even more. He met Steve’s eye and knew Steve understood.

_Be careful_.

Steve turned back to Stark. “Okay. But someone has to stay with Bucky.”

“Don’t worry,” Stark said. “I got us a dog sitter.”

 

–

 

Peter Parker stood in front of Captain America and tried to concentrate on what he was being told, which was hard to do considering Peter Parker _was standing in front of Captain America!!_

Of course, he’d met Captain Rogers a couple of times before, and they’d had that thing in Berlin, but this was _Captain America_ in the _Captain America_ suit trusting Peter with “the most important thing in my life,” Captain Rogers said.

“Yes, sir!” Peter said, saluting. “Uh… what was that again?”

Captain Rogers blinked at him. “ _Bucky_ ,” he said, gesturing.

Peter looked at the husky sitting beside Captain Rogers. It looked back at him, completely unimpressed.

“Oh,” Peter said. Then, “Oh!”

Peter had seen Hawkeye’s photos on Twitter, but he hadn’t really believed it. Even when Mr Stark had called and explained the situation (sort of explained the situation), it wasn’t until he looked at the husky and the Winter Soldier glared back that Peter believed it.

Captain Rogers had been a nicer dog.

About twice a month, out of nowhere, Peter was vividly reminded of the time he’d given Captain America a belly rub. (And he was also vividly reminded that not only was that the first time he officially met Captain Rogers, but also the time he saw his childhood hero totally naked).

Peter was so caught up in the memory that Captain Rogers had to clear his throat to get his attention back.

“Look, Peter, if you’re not up for this,” Captain Rogers began.

“Oh, I’m up for it, sir. I got this.”

Sargent Barnes apparently didn’t agree, because he turned tail and went to sit on the couch.

Captain Rogers didn’t look all that convinced either. But clearly he didn’t have any other options, because he sighed and said, “Here’s my number,” and handed Peter a scrap of paper. (With Captain America’s number on it!!!) (But, like, who wrote their number down anymore?) Obviously Peter took it and clutched it to his chest. “If anything happens, absolutely anything, call me and I’ll come right back.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

Captain Rogers studied him a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna…” He gestured awkwardly towards Sargent Barnes.

Peter’s eyes bugged. “Oh, right, yeah, you gotta say adios and all, I’ll just…”

Captain Rogers was already tuning him out.

Peter stood awkwardly by the door, trying not to listen, but his hearing was crazy good and they were literally ten feet away.

“I’ll be back soon,” Steve whispered. “Wait for me?”

Peter couldn’t help it; he glanced over. Captain Rogers had his face buried in Sargent Barnes’s neck, his arms around him. Bucky had his head tucked under Steve’s chin.

They stayed that way for a while, and Peter wondered what it would be like to feel that way about someone. And to have someone feel the same in return.

Eventually, Captain Rogers straightened. He turned away from Sargent Barnes and was suddenly Captain America. Steve Rogers had been shoved away under determination and duty. He nodded to Peter as he left the room, not once looking back. Peter wondered if that was because he wouldn’t be able to go if he did.

Silence followed in his wake. Distantly, Peter thought he heard the sound of the quinjet taking off. The way Bucky’s ears twitched, he probably had.

Peter rocked back on his heels. “So… Fuck Nazis, am I right?”

 

–

 

It had been twelve hours without Steve, and life sucked.

It wasn’t that Bucky couldn’t live without Steve, it was just that Bucky _couldn’t live without Steve_.

They weren’t joined at the hip, despite what Wilson kept saying. Steve still went jogging at the crack of dawn (why, God?), and to the VA with Sam, and to get take-out when Bucky didn’t want to get out of bed. Bucky still did his own thing, though autonomy was still something he was working on. More often than not, though, he’d rather just be with Steve.

Steve still went on missions and Bucky still stayed at the compound. It was good, Bucky wanted Steve to keep fighting for what he believed in, but it was also a total nightmare. Because Steve was a dumbass who threw himself on every grenade, in front of every bullet, and into every fire he could. And all Bucky could do was sit at home and wait for him to come back.

Or not.

It was worse this time because he wasn’t at home so he couldn’t just lie in Steve’s bed, wallowing. He wasn’t even alone, which meant he couldn’t wallow in peace. He was stuck with that spider kid as a babysitter.

Parker was currently upside on the armchair and had been skimming through Netflix for the past hour. He was eating a bag of pretzels and getting crumbs all over the rug.

Bucky rested his chin on the armrest and gazed out the window.

An indeterminable amount of time later, Bucky heard the kid flip all the way over and thud to the ground. “There’s nothing on Netflix,” he declared, even though Bucky knew there were hundreds of movies. As someone who still struggled to make their own decisions, that was a terrifying amount. It was why he let the others pick during movie night. “Man, who knew hanging with the Winter Soldier would be so boring.”

Bucky snorted. What did the kid want? Murder and torture?

“You wanna go for a walk?”

It was completely involuntary, that wag of Bucky’s tail.

“You wanna go walkies?” Parker asked in a high-pitched voice. Bucky found himself jumping off the couch, tail wagging at that goddamn _word_. “Walkies!”

Okay, watch it, kid.

Bucky bounced around Parker, tripping him up as he tried to walk to elevator. He didn’t even get too bummed out when Parker produced a collar and leash once they reached the foyer.

“Uh, Mr Stark gave these to me. I don’t think dogs are allowed off-lead in the city.”

They were striped red, white and blue. Bucky sniffed at them and wagged his tail a little. He’d deal with a collar if it meant he could go on this fucking walk. He sat, lifting his head slightly so Parker could easily fasten the collar around his neck. It didn’t feel the same as when Hydra had done it, thank God.

“We’ll go to the park and you can run around,” Parker said, clipping the leash on. As soon as Bucky heard the click, he was off, dragging Peter through the doors and onto the street.

They were both pretty evenly matched in strength, Bucky knew, remembering that time Parker had stopped a punch from the metal arm. But it was somehow weirdly impossible to resist a dog on a leash when it was determined enough.

So Bucky dragged Parker all through the streets of Manhattan, ignoring the annoyed shouts thrown at them while Peter yelled apologies back. Bucky chased pigeons out of alleys, knocked over trash cans, and barrelled through a tram.

Eventually, both panting, they ended up at Central Park.

“Please do not get us into trouble,” Parker said, reaching down to unclip the leash. He held onto the collar for a moment. “I want Captain Rogers to think I did a good job.”

Bucky looked up at Parker innocently. Parker wasn’t an idiot, though, and sighed. But he still let go of the collar, and Bucky was off.

He sprinted across the grass, scaring squirrels back into trees and scattering birds. He was faster than he was as a human, and faster than a husky probably should be, but he couldn’t slow down. He loved this as much as he hated jogging. His paws tore up the ground, and the wind he created rushed through his fur.

He wondered what it would be like to feel this free all the time.

Just like hanging his head out the window of the car, nothing seemed to matter as he ran. He may have even bounded, but there were no witnesses so nothing could be proven. His worries about Steve and the mission, about whether he would be stuck like this forever, they were all distant thoughts compared to what was over the next hill or behind the next tree.

It would have been perfect, if only Steve were with him.

And it was too hot. Bucky’s body was shuddering beneath his fur with each breath. There was a green pond just off the path. Bucky took a running leap–

“No, don’t–”

–and splashed into the centre of it. It was sort of more of a muddy puddle than a pond.

“Really?” Parker was back, standing on the edge of the pond, looking exasperated. Bucky was impressed that he’d managed to keep up. “You’re covered in muck.”

Bucky splashed about some more. It was refreshing.

“Stoooooop. Get out.”

Bucky sat down.

Parker opened his mouth before closing it again and shaking his head. He went and sat in a tree to wait.

Bucky stayed in the water until he didn’t feel the need to stick his tongue out anymore. Then he played around for a bit longer, scaring the ducks from the reeds and digging in the mud, much to Parker’s annoyance. Then he got out and waited for Peter to climb down from the tree before shaking all over him.

“Argh! _No_.”

“Oo, a puppy!” a voice cried.

Bucky stiffened, ears perking, and Parker made a grab for his collar as a little girl skipped out from the trees. Bucky couldn’t begin to guess her age except for _young_ , not having been around children for God knows how long. She had red boots on, and her hair was in pigtails.

Bucky sniffed at her. She smelled like milk and cookies.

She stopped just short of them, hands behind her back, and said to Peter, “May I please pet your dog?”

Parker glanced down at Bucky. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

Bucky held still as she approached him, unwilling to startle her even slightly. There were memories, not even all of them Hydra, of children. In most of them, they were crying as they were carried from their homes. In others, they ran screaming from the masked man with the metal arm. In one that fuelled his nightmares, they watched as the Winter Soldier murdered their parents.

The little girl stroked his side, her touch gentle and a little ticklish. He still had so much to atone for, was he even worthy of such an innocent touch?

He also felt a little bad that he was covered in dirty pond water.

“He’s wet!” she exclaimed, delighted.

“He’s been swimming,” Parker told her.

“What’s his name?” the girl asked.

Peter hesitated. “Um. Bucky.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Like Captain America’s best friend!”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Exactly like that. Are you a fan of Bucky Barnes?”

The girl nodded, still patting Bucky excitedly. “He saved Captain America!”

“He did,” Peter agreed. “Loads of times during the war.”

“And now! He pulled Captain America out of the river after those big planes crashed.”

Parker looked surprised, but he smiled and crouched down. “Yeah, he did. And I’ll tell you a secret. He’s saved Captain America loads more after that too. In Germany and Siberia. Even here.”

“Really?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Really,” Peter said. “The Winter Soldier is a hero.”

“I know!”

Bucky put his nose to the little girl’s cheek and she giggled.

Someone called for her then and she stepped away from Bucky with a final pat to the head. “Oh, I gotta go. Thanks for letting me pat your dog, mister.”

Peter straightened. “You’re welcome.”

“Bye-bye, Bucky,” the girl called, waving.

Bucky sat and watched her run back to her family, head cocked.

Parker nudged him. “Not everyone hates the Winter Soldier.”

It was a strange feeling.

 

–

 

Bucky ignored Parker’s whining about mud and dirt the whole elevator ride up. Once back on Steve’s floor, Bucky slumped against the floorboards, content to fall asleep right there.

“Do you want a bath?” Parker asked, and Bucky’s head jerked up.

There was absolutely no logical reason to run in terror, yet that was exactly what Bucky did.

 

–

 

Something was buzzing in the vague direction of Parker.

Bucky, sprawled on the other couch trying to sleep, let out an annoyed howl. It was really more of a whine. The Winter Soldier would be so disappointed. But so fucking what, it was late and the buzzing was annoying.

Bucky whine-howled again.

Parker jolted up, fists raised, eyes still closed. “What! Whossthere.”

Bucky growled.

Parker fumbled in the dark for his phone and managed to answer it. “Hullo?”

“ _Kid. Hey_.” Bucky’s ear perked up when he recognised Stark’s voice. Maybe they were on their way back. “ _Where are you?_ ”

“Sleepin’,” Parker said through a yawn.

“ _Listen, things didn’t exactly go according to plan_.”

Bucky sat up.

What.

“What d’you mean?” Parker asked, trying to blink himself into consciousness.

“ _I mean, it was a set-up. I should have realised when we kicked their asses way too easily. We were almost back to the tower when they jumped us. They’re after Barnes. They, uh, they took Cap._ ”

WHAT

“ _Something about bait._ ”

“Oh my God. What should I do?”

“ _No, I’m not calling to drag you into this. I’m calling to tell you to stay there. Don’t leave the tower. Not until we sort this out. It’s the most secure building in New York. You’ll be safe there. And don’t tell Barnes, either, okay?_ ”

“Okay,” Parker said, turning his wide-eyes to Bucky.

“ _He’ll only panic, and it’s not like he_ _could_ _do anything even if he wasn’t a dog. We’ll handle it. We’ll get Steve back._ ”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Keep me posted.”

“ _All right, kid. Get some sleep_.”

They were not fucking sleeping.

“Like I can sleep after that,” Parker said, for once speaking some goddamn sense. Then he looked at Bucky, and he must’ve seen something in Bucky’s eyes because he started shaking his head. “No, no, oh no, you heard Mr Stark. They’re looking for _you_. You can’t go out there.”

Just fucking try and stop me, Bucky thought.

He ran to the elevator, which kindly sensed his approach and slid open. He rushed in and pawed at the screen for the ground floor. His heart was racing. _Hurry hurry hurry_.

Parker was on his heels. “You don’t even know where Captain Rogers is. Are you going to run around the whole city?”

If that was what it took to find Steve, Bucky would do it. Bucky would do anything to make sure Steve was safe.

God, but that was the thing that terrified him the most. Not that Hydra would get Bucky again, but that they would get _Steve_. Let them do what they wanted to Bucky all over again, he would go willingly, so long as they didn’t hurt Steve. _Please don’t hurt Steve._

Parker was still trying to be the voice of reason. “You know you’re not the Winter Soldier right now, right? What are you going to do when you run into Hydra? Cute them to death?”

Bucky didn’t care. He would do _something_. Anything.

The elevator dinged and Bucky was squeezing through the doors before they were even fully open. He ran through the empty lobby and skidded to a stop in front of the massive glass doors. Manhattan was dark beyond them.

Bucky paused. The doors were locked. There was a palm reader for after-hours access. They all had their hands scanned; even Bucky had a scan of his right hand.

He looked down at his paws.

Bucky threw himself at the glass. He still had all his super solider strength but the glass didn’t even shudder. Stark was not lying when he said it was the most secure building in New York.

Bucky whined, pressing his head against the glass, pushing hopelessly, his paws skidding on the polished floor. He felt like screaming.

He felt like crying.

_Steve_.

“Okay,” Parker said. Bucky whipped his head around. Parker pressed his palm to the reader and watched as it scanned green. The locks clunked open. Peter looked back at Bucky. “Let’s go get him.”

 

–

 

The metal chair Steve was cuffed to seemed to be overcompensating for something. Wires ran along the back of it, chains twisted around the feet, and metal clasps adorned the armrests. There was some weird contraption behind it that looked like it was supposed to go over the head–

It clicked then.

This was one of the chairs from the Winter Soldier file. It was one of the chairs that dominated Bucky’s nightmares. This was one of the chairs that had torn Bucky’s mind apart.

Anything Steve had been feeling before then – fear, confusion, panic – was suddenly transformed into white-hot rage. He twisted in the seat, but the cuffs had been made to hold the Winter Soldier. Steve was going nowhere, no matter how furious.

The room was empty. It looked like it hadn’t been used in years. As far as Steve knew, there hadn’t been any Hydra activity in New York since the nineties.

It was dark. Steve’s eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light coming from the exit sign above the only door. He was surrounded by computers and monitors, all of the screens blank. He supposed it was a good sign none of the devices appeared to be operational at the minute.

Why was he here?

The attack on the quinjet had happened so fast. Something had struck the side of it, and he remembered Clint yelling for them to brace themselves as the ground rushed up to meet them. There’d been gunfire and alarms. Something had pricked the back of his neck and the shield had tumbled from his hands. Someone had dragged him out of the hull and then–

He’d opened his eyes here.

All he could do now was wait.

Hours passed as Steve sat alone in the darkness. He kinda needed to pee.

He didn’t know if the others were okay. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what they _wanted_.

At last, there was a buzzing sound, and the door swung open with a rush of light. A man stood silhouetted in the entrance, flanked by guards. “Ah, Captain America, sorry to keep you waiting.” The man walked into the room and Steve followed the movement with his eyes. “You must be wondering why you’re here.”

Steve didn’t respond. He cast his eyes around the room again now that he had better light. There was nothing to give away his location. Not that he could do anything with the knowledge.

The man stopped in front of him. He was dressed in slacks and a white button-up, a black bow-tie tucked neatly under his chin. He didn’t look like Hydra, but Hydra never did. He reminded Steve of the doctors that had ‘treated’ Bucky.

“I believe you have something of ours.”

Steve met his eyes, daring him to step closer.

The doctor smiled. “The Asset. _Our_ Asset.”

“He’s not yours,” Steve snarled.

“We made him, shaped him, purposed him to our will. And you stole him.” The doctor’s smile faded. “But you will give him back.”

Steve’s heart thumped. _Bucky. They wanted Bucky._

“You want me to tell you where he is? Never.”

“Oh, no, we know where he is,” the doctor said. “No, what I want is for you to bring him here. Which you will do.”

“Bucky’s not an idiot. He’ll know it’s a trap.”

The doctor shrugged. “So? He’ll still walk right into it for you, won’t he? I’m sure he’ll even agree to anything if given the right incentive.” He flicked a switch and the dormant machines whirred to life. The headpiece came down over Steve’s face, the metal scraping against his skin. “Sargent Barnes and Captain Rogers. It’s a tale as old as time.

“Now, don’t worry, this isn’t going to erase your memories. We’d need quite a few years to do that and, honestly, we don’t have the time. No, this is just going to hurt.”

The doctor hit another button and needles pierced Steve’s temples. He heard the hum of electricity right before he felt it–

 

–

 

Bucky knew the locations of all the pre-2014 Hydra bases. The coordinates were stitched into his mind along with memories he’d much rather forget. There was at least one in every powerful city, and so naturally New York had two. One was in an old bank like the base in DC, and the other beneath a forgotten theatre.

There was no guarantee they’d take Steve to either location, or even that they’d stay in the city, but most of the more creative heads had been cut off, leaving Hydra a simple beast. Besides, if they were using Steve as bait for Bucky, they’d take him some place the Winter Solider would be able to find.

They went to the bank first, Peter still trying to talk him out of it without realising Bucky had tuned him out. Even without looking, Bucky could tell they weren’t here. There wasn’t even a trace of Steve’s scent in the air.

Bucky whined. It felt like he was falling all over again.

There was no time to despair. He knew where to go. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t let the fear swallow him. _Find Steve. Find Steve_. The city blurred around him, the dark streets all merging into one, but he knew where to go.

He always found his way back to Steve.

Always.

Bucky stopped. The theatre loomed before him, dark and opposing. He didn’t want to go inside. He did not want to go inside. Please don’t let them take him again. He didn’t want to. God, he didn’t want to forget again.

But Steve.

Without Steve, there was nothing worth remembering anyway.

And Steve was in there.

Bucky could smell him. That familiar scent of home calling to Bucky. It was tangled with the smell of mould, and blood, and fear, but Bucky knew it. He knew Steve’s smell intimately, like he knew the colour of Steve’s eyes and the way he smiled. They wouldn’t be able to _make_ him forget again.

“Is he in there?” Parker asked. Bucky had almost forgotten he was there. He had pulled his Spider-man mask on but was still wearing the Thor pyjamas. “Oh shit. Okay. Karen,” Parker said, and Bucky frowned. Who the fuck was Karen? “Can you send Mr Stark my location?”

“ _Yes, Peter_ ,” replied a robotic woman’s voice. Bucky rolled his eyes. Did everyone’s suit talk these days?

Bucky shook himself. He trotted around the side of the building and sized up the side-door. He threw his body, all 200-plus pounds of it even in dog form, at the doors. They crashed inwards, and Bucky knew it would be triggering silent alarms.

Good. Let them come for him.

“Wait!” Peter yelled. “Shouldn’t we wait for the Avengers?”

Jesus, didn’t the kid get it? Bucky was a fucking avenger now.

And then Bucky heard Steve scream.

 

–

 

The Winter Soldier, even as a dog, was a nightmare. A whirlwind of teeth and claws. He tore through the Hydra agents like they were nothing. He seemed impervious to bullets, if he even let the agents get a chance to fire them.

Peter didn’t even have to do anything except web up the survivors, of which there were very few. He ended up trailing after the falling bodies. One of them dropped an interesting looking gun. The scanners in the mask were picking up a weird energy.

Obviously Peter picked it up. It looked like the gun Mr Stark had been trying to make. Peter fiddled with the settings as he picked his way between the bodies.

He’d just figured out how to reverse the gun’s affects when he realised there was no sound of gunfire anymore. That could either be very good or very bad. He swore and took off running.

 

–

 

Steve gasped as the pain stopped just as abruptly as it had started. He slumped as much as he could in the chair, chest heaving.

How many times had they done this to Bucky? How many more times would they do it if they got their hands on him? Steve was going to kill them. As soon as it stopped hurting when he blinked.

The sound of gunfire and screaming had him looking up. A dozen or so guards filed into the room, barricading the door behind them.

One of the guards crossed to the doctor’s side. “He came.”

The doctor smiled at Steve. “Of course he did.”

Steve groaned. “Bucky _._ ” _No_.

“Well, open the doors,” the doctor said. “Let him in.”

The guard hesitated. “Uh. Okay, but, he’s not cooperating. And…”

“What?”

“He’s a dog.”

“A dog?”

“Someone must’ve shot him with one of the experimental guns. It hasn’t made him loyal.”

“Those guns were a stupid idea by some dimwit who wanted quick attack dogs. Of course it hasn’t made him loyal.” The doctor waved the guard away. “Open the doors. He won’t do anything. Not when we have the one thing he cares about.”

Steve would rather die than let them get their hands on Bucky again.

_Bucky._

_Please._

 

–

 

There was blood in his mouth and matted in his fur, and Bucky was bristling with energy. With purpose. He had thought he was tired of fighting, but maybe he’d been wrong.

They’d barricaded the door. Bucky enjoyed the shuddering sound it made when he threw himself against it. This was not the most secure building in New York. It was going to crack beneath his fury.

Before it could, it opened again. Bucky threw himself into the room with a snarl.

The first thing Bucky noticed was Steve. His time in the war and his seventy years with Hydra meant he catalogued the guards and all their weapons and the doctor standing to the side, but the first thing he noticed, the thing that all his senses immediately focused on, was Steve.

Steve was strapped to the chair.

They’d put Steve in the fucking chair.

The rage Bucky felt then almost blinded him. He launched himself at one of the guards, almost ripping his head off with his teeth. The body hadn’t even hit the floor before he was already tearing towards the doctor, bullets forgotten in his fury.

“Stop!” the doctor screamed, hand hovering over an ominous looking button.

Bucky skidded to a halt in the middle of the room.

His mind tried to shield him, but his body remembered the pain of that chair. The agony, the torture. He’d begged to die, for it just to end. Even when he couldn’t remember how to want, he’d still wanted relief from the pain.

And now Steve was in his place and all of Bucky’s nightmares were coming to life.

The doctor smiled. “Surrender now, or I’ll kill him.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked from the doctor, to the guards, to finally settle on Steve.

Steve’s eyes were pleading. _Just go, g_ _et out of here._

Bucky just looked at him. He’d made a promise seventy years ago and he wasn’t about to break it now. He shook his head.

“Look at how broken you are,” the doctor said. “The Winter Soldier has no such weakness as _love_. Do not worry, we can fix this.” He gestured to the guards. “Take him.”

Steve strained against the cuffs. “No! Bucky–”

There was a crash overhead and something red and gold plummeted through the roof.

Iron Man straightened and shot a blast at the doctor, knocking him away from the trigger. For a moment, everyone paused. Bucky looked around to stare at Stark.

“Sic ’em, boy,” Tony said.

 

–

 

Peter sprinted into the room and immediately had to leap onto the roof to avoid the spattering of bullets. It was a bloody massacre. Captain Rogers was strapped to some weird-looking torture chair. Sargent Barnes was ripping apart anyone who got close to him. There was a doctor lying beside a scary-looking control panel. And Iron Man was there, taking out the Hydra goons that kept pouring in.

“Mr Stark!”

“Kid! I thought I told you to stay at the tower. Are those _Thor_ pyjamas? What the hell? Thor never gave you a new suit–”

“I can turn Sargent Barnes back into a human,” Peter said, waving the gun.

The Iron Man mask flipped open. “What? How?”

“I just reversed the parameters.”

Mr Stark appeared to be buffering.

“Uh, Mr Stark?”

He shook himself out of it. “Then what are you waiting for, kid?”

Sargent Barnes stepped off the last body that was missing a good chunk of its neck. Hackles raised, he fixed his eyes on the doctor just as the man began to stir.

Peter aimed the gun at Sargent Barnes and fired.

 

–

 

There was a flash of red light that struck Bucky right in the chest. Steve blinked, and where the husky had been was now Bucky, all muscle and metal.

Bucky didn’t even seem to notice the change. Or his lack of clothes. Without stopping, he stalked right up to the doctor and hauled him to his feet. The doctor struggled weakly but Bucky just snarled and leaned in, before ripping the man’s throat out with his teeth.

Which was gross. But also… kinda hot?

Bucky dropped the body and turned to Steve, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He was covered in blood and gore, his hair a matted mess, and he was the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen.

Steve’s heart did a pathetic little _ba-bump_. “Bucky.”

Bucky was at his side in an instant, metal arm wrenching the cuffs off. With a gentler touch, he pulled the headpiece from Steve’s face. His eyes darted over Steve’s face, lingering on the cuts that Steve could feel were already healing. He brushed his fingers along Steve’s cheekbone.

“Steve.”

God, it was so good to hear his voice. Steve met Bucky’s eyes as Bucky brought his other hand up to Steve’s face.

Then he pulled back his fist and punched Steve in the shoulder.

“Uh, _ow–_ ”

“I love you too. You asshole.”

 

–

 

Bucky rolled his eyes.

Typical. Even in the darkness of a fucking torture chamber, Steve’s smile was like goddamn sunshine.

 

**Author's Note:**

> still don't know what i'm doing


End file.
